Page 16 of Ink Me Three Times
In Freddie’s doorway.
Does heworkwith Freddie?
Why did I not think to ask Freddie for the details about his job?
My mouth goes dry. My spine locks. The mug in my hand doesn’t shatter, but it could. I’ve got white knuckle grip on it, and my brain is already short circuiting.
He looks the same. Exactly the same. Same jawline carved by a spiteful god. Same forest green eyes that turned molten under low light. Same sharp edge that made me forget who I was for a few reckless hours in a brand new town.
No.
No, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
I drop my eyes, praying he somehow won’t see me, or worse, recognize me, but before I can pull off the disappearing act I desperately want to try, another man steps through the door.
Same face.
Almost.
The second one’s got softer edges. His mouth is gentler. His expression open, curious. Less wolf, more golden retriever. Still gorgeous, but in that approachable "your friend's hot older brother who plays guitar at bonfires" kind of way.
He offers a warm smile and a hand. "Hey. You must be Ivy. I’m Timothy."
It’s not him.
But it is.
Because right behind him, in the doorway, stands the real one. The man who does know me. The man who saw me naked. The man who made me come so hard I forgot my own name… and then watched me run out before either of us had to acknowledge how messy it was.
What the…?
His eyes catch mine and go wide. Recognition slams into both of us like a car crash.
He looks just as floored as I feel. Like neither of us expected to see each other again, especially not here. Not in the bright light of Freddie’s very domestic kitchen, with crayons and cartoons and a sticky fingered three-year-old between us.
Freddie steps in, glancing between us like maybe he felt the voltage shift.
"So, this is Timothy," he says, motioning to the kinder twin. "And that’s Mitchell."
Mitchell.
I say nothing. Can’t.
Because Mitchell’s still staring. His jaw clenches. His hands are fists in his jacket pockets. He looks like he’s trying to figure out if he’s hallucinating.
Join the club, buddy.
"Ivy’s Jesse’s sister," Freddie says, clearly trying to smooth the mood. "She’s helping out with Penny."
Timothy grins, but his eyes squint just slightly. "Right, yeah, Jesse’s mentioned you. We, uh…" He gestures vaguely between himself and Mitchell. "We wanted to stop by. Y’know, meet the new nanny."
My spine snaps a little straighter. "Oh."
"Just to… you know." Timothy shrugs. "Get a feel for who’s hanging around the kid."
My cheeks burn. "Sure. Of course."
